


A Good Old Tune Called Rocky Racoon

by DistractionReaction



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Gen, Movie Spoilers, One Shot, Recovery, Team Bonding, Team Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractionReaction/pseuds/DistractionReaction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Oh.” Peter blinks and sprawls back in his chair with a sly grin. “You like my singing do you?” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Mmm.” Groot’s leaves flutter happily and he reaches out again, tiny fingers stretching towards Quill. </i>
</p><p><i>Dutifully he sets his hand on the pot, allowing Groot’s tendrils to curl around his fingers. “You and I, little guy, we’re gonna to have some fun with this.” </i><br/>---<br/>5 times Peter sings to Groot, and one time he sings to his whole crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Old Tune Called Rocky Racoon

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is brought to you by my inability to go seven full days without watching Guardians of the Galaxy. Ugh I love their misfit family so much. 
> 
> SO. MUUUUCH. 
> 
> Self-Beta'd, so please feel free to leave constructive reviews. :) Enjoy!

**1**

“ _This ship is still filthy._ ” Peter mimics in a high pitched whine, scooping up his cassette player and snapping the headphones over his ears. The cleaning device Gamora commissioned is just all sorts of _wrong_ (not that he could let Rocket hear him say that) but he’s not about to argue with a woman who keeps so many sharp objects on hand, _all the time_. 

God she even sleeps with them. Which he knows from firsthand experience. 

No such thing as privacy in a small ship packed with ex-con misfit heroes. 

Peter keeps glaring at the thing and fumbles with its controls, startling when it jumps out of his hands in a burst of blue light. For one heart stopping moment he’s sure he’s going to have to jump ship to flee a very pissed off racoon, when the thing stops just short of the hard, steel floor. It hovers an inch above the ground, humming pleasantly and very much in one piece. 

Sighing in relief Peter steps back, only to have it trail after his feet, puttering just at his front. 

“Huh.” 

He wiggles, the machine wiggles; he dashes to the side, it follows right with him. Peter beams when he jumps and disk-like machine hops up and spins right at his toes. 

Okay so maybe Rocket’s cleaning-robot- _thing_ isn’t so heinous after all.

“Well, would you look at that-” 

Peter chuckles and pulls up his pants, fingers already itching for his cassette tape. 

Gamora wants clean? He’ll show her clean.

\---

“ _I didn’t think about my lady-_ ” 

Peter shimmies his way through the kitchen, singing at the top of his lungs. They are planet side for repairs, which was how Gamora had manage to saddle him with maid duty in the first place. Right now she’s off somewhere with Rocket and Drax doing things he _probably_ didn’t want to think about in order to ‘liberate’ a few rather expensive engine parts from a reliable but reluctant vendor. Rocket assures them that given two days and a few supplies, he can finally get rid of the ship's pathetic excuse for an engine. 

Peter’s still pissed about that particular comment. The Milano runs fine, thank you very much; but hey he’s not about to argue with a good old fashion engine upgrade. If Rocket wants to give his baby a tune-up, that’s fine by him. 

He jogs into a slide, feet skidding to a stop at the edge of the floor. The machine whirrs happily next to him, sucking away at the dirt in its path. For a hunk of bolts, it’s proving to be a decent dancing partner. Twisting he glides backwards and stumbles his way into a moonwalk. His robotic companion stutters and trails along, brushing a clean sweep all the way to the touch screen by the table.

Peter grins at the machine boogying along at his toes. “ _Though I’m nobody’s poet, I though it wasn’t half bad-_ ”

He reaches out blindly to the table at his side, coming back with Groot’s empty watering can. Grasping the spout he holds it over his face and hoots into it, starting up the chorus. 

“ _Yes, I like I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain. I'm not much into health food, I am into champagne_.” His voice cracks and he gives the can a hard shake, a few drops of water dribbling out across his face. “ _I've got to meet you by tomorrow noon and cut through all this red tape. At a bar called O'Malley's where we'll plan our escape_ -”

He kicks his leg up, thrusting the can dramatically into the air-

…and that’s about when he remembers Groot. 

Big black eyes peer at him from beneath the large green leaf that recently sprouted on their friend’s tiny head. He’s bigger than he was a few weeks ago, but still fits nicely in his simple, little pot. 

“ _Hey there_ Baby Groot.” Peter slowly lowers the watering can from where it was poised above his head. He sets it on the table, pushing it to the side until it’s well out of Groot’s sight. “Nothing to see here-”

Peter watches his tiny arms unfurl from his sides, small buds of green speckling the wooden shoots. His little mouth drops open and Peter eases off his headphones, music fading back just in time to hear Groot’s tiny, pleased, “ _Mmmm._ ” 

Not even Rocket has a clue when Groot will really start talking again. Well, as much as Groot actually talks anyhow. There were layers of hidden nuances to that 5 word vocabulary that Rocket seems to grasp so easily but Peter…well Peter just tries his hand at 20 questions. 

“Did you like that bit with the watering can?” He asks, dropping into the chair at Groot’s front. His tiny companion reaches out to him, shaking his small head with his eyes closed. The vacuum-machine- _thing_ comes to a rest at Peter’s feet and he absentmindedly reaches down to shut it off. 

“No? Well, something has you in a good mood. Wanna listen to some tunes?” He pulls the headphones off from around his neck. Then he drags the cassette player onto the table and sets them both by Groot’s pot. The music still hums through the tiny speakers, but after a moment the sapling shakes his head. 

“Come on buddy you know this song.” Peter prompts, turning the volume up a bit and murmuring along. “ _I knew her smile in an instant, I knew the curve of her face_ ,” he raises his voice, throwing his hands out dramatically and shutting his eyes, “ _It was my own lovely lady-_ ” 

“ _Mmmm Rroo_.” 

Peter stops short and finds Groot swaying towards him happily, fingers reaching out in vine-like tendrils. 

“ _Oh._ ” Peter blinks and sprawls back in his chair with a sly grin. “You like my singing do you?” 

“Mmm.” Groot’s leaves flutter happily and he reaches out again, tiny fingers stretching towards Quill. 

Dutifully he sets his hand on the pot, allowing Groot’s tendrils to curl around his fingers. “You and I, little guy, we’re gonna to have some fun with this.” 

“ _Rrrooo._ ” 

**2**

When he was just small, not all of his time with the Ravagers had been terrible. He remembers sitting with Yondu on distant, exotic planets, singing old songs from Terra while the captain whistled and spun his Yaka arrow. The memories are vague, but they aren’t unpleasant. 

Peter drags himself up off his bunk with a tired groan. He finds the quiet alarm quickly, grimacing when Drax shifts beneath him on the cot they’d fashioned in the center of his room. He’s careful not to disturb the massive man when he tiptoes over towards the common room. He drags his jacket off of one of the chairs and shrugs it over his shoulders, finding his way to the cockpit ladder. 

Pausing at the first rung he glances back to Gamora and Drax. Dozing on they are buried, no, dare he say, _nestled_ in the mess of blankets that is somehow now _their_ bunk. His life is weird. 

Peter shakes his head and drags himself up onto the flight deck, yawning until his jaw cracks. 

Rocket glances over from the controls, nodding to him. “Sleep any?” 

“Some.” Peter shrugs and walks up to his friend, smiling at Groot. His pot is nestled into the corner next to the chair on the small shelf they scrounged up for him. “Wanna leave our shrubby buddy to keep me company?” 

“ _Why_?” Rocket stops short where he’s reaching for Groot and shoots Peter a suspicious look. He raises his hands and does his best to look innocent. “Not up to anything _funny_ now are you Quill-”

“I would never dream of it-”

“…keepin’ him up so late-”

“…am a caring, nurturing person by nature Rocket, I’m offended that you’d even-”

“…don’t you know he’s still growin’-”

“ _Rrrooo_.” 

Rocket glances up to Groot, eyeing his friend carefully and sighing. “Alright, alright little guy.” He reaches up briefly to touch his claw to Groot’s slowly sprawling roots. “Don’t you stay up all night with this lunatic, y’hearin’ me?” 

“Mmm.” Leaves flicking happily he hums to Rocket, waving him off. 

Peter clasps him on his shoulder and winks when he passes. “Rest easy my fine furry friend, he’s in good company.” 

“Yeah, and that’s what worries me.” Rocket grumbles and comes to a stop at the ladder. He looks back to Peter, gaze narrowed and whiskers twitching. “Nothing weird Quill.” 

“ _Cross my heart_.” He beams at Rocket when the racoon finally lowers himself down into the belly of the ship. Glancing around the cockpit he smiles, basking in the idea of the few hours of good old fashioned alone time he gets before Gamora’s shift. 

_Well, not completely alone._

He turns to Groot and finds his friend wiggling in the pot, leaves waving. 

“She’s all ours little guy.” 

He drops himself down into the cockpit and takes a quick survey of their progress. After hightailing it from their supply pick up they’re cruising towards an underdeveloped planet on the other side of Sadal Alpha. This close the star is blaringly bright, but the protective shielding of the Milano’s glass filters out the harsh glare. Peter settles into the controls and flashes Groot a quick grin. “You know little buddy, when I was a kid my mum used to sing to our plants.” 

He watches his friend carefully, taking in his new blossoms with an unreasonable amount of glee. “She said it helps them grow,” he continues, reaching out to gently press his finger to Groot’s palm, “maybe I could help you grow too, y’know, if you want…” 

Peter trails off sheepishly; but before he can snatch the offer back a tiny, pleased noise fills the cockpit. 

“Mmm Rrroooo.” Groot seems to edge closer in his pot, small eyes shinning and mouth slit in a wide smile. 

“You got it buddy.” Peter laughs his nerves away and eases up on their speed. “How about a nice cruisin’ song?” 

He glances to the side, listening to Groot’s happy croon with a grin. “Alright, Don Mclean it is.”

Peter launches into the tune from memory, starting at a quiet murmur and drumming his hands long at the console. 

“ _But February made me shiver. With every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep I couldn't take one more step-_ ” Groot’s doing his best to hum along and Peter’s positively giddy. “ _I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride. But something touched me deep inside. The day the music died_ -”

They bob along to the song together while they putter through space, their misfit family curled up in the ship beneath their feet. 

“ _So bye-bye, Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye, Singin’-_ ”

**3**

“No, no like this-”

Peter rocks up on his heels and twists his hips side to side, arms poised in the air. 

Groot seemed to be taking his introduction to the Beatles well. He makes a bright, boisterous noise and bends to the side, trying to mimic Peter’s motion. 

“That’s it, you got it.” 

Peter keeps twisting, Groot dancing right along with him from where his pot is nestled in the ground.

“ _Well, shake it up baby,_ ” Peter belts out to the planet’s turquoise sky, closing his eyes and shimmying his way down, “ _Twist and shout! Twist and shout-_ ” 

Peter manages to sneak time with Groot more and more often while they wait on their repairs. Rocket and Gamora are buried in Milano’s engine, and there’s no telling where Drax wanders off to during these rare moments of peace, but Peter’s more than happy to get some jammin’ time in with his biggest fan. 

“ _You know you twist your little girl, twist little girl, You know you twist so fine-_ ” Groot’s whole body wiggles and he bows down slightly, waving his leaves along to the beat. Peter misses his cue he’s hooting so loud, but he chimes in soon enough, laughing out the next verse, “ _a little closer, now, twist a little closer. And let me know that you're mine-_ ”

“ _Just what are you two idiots doing?_ ” 

Peter trips over his own feet at the sound of Rocket’s voice and just about face plants. He manages to catch himself, spinning and flashing the techy racoon a shaky grin. “Oh nothin’ much, just jammin’ in the fresh air, right Groot?” 

Groot stretches and nods his little head, grin wide. “Mmm Rrrooo.” 

“Whatever ye weirdos.” Rocket crosses his arms and looks pointedly to Peter, a smirk curling up his lips. “Gamora’s gunnin’ fer you to make lunch. Seems Drax found him something vaguely fish-like to murderize, and she ain’t touching it with a ten foot pole.” 

Peter’s face scrunches up and he makes a gagging noise. Of course Gamora’s saddling him with the weird dead alien thing. “She doesn’t actually expect us to _eat it_ …does she?” 

Rocket shrugs and Peter reaches down to scoop up Groot, scrambling over the hill and back towards the ship. “She wants lunch. Whether you use Drax’s scraps or freeze-dried yamma berries is really your concern, not mine.”

“Thanks Rocket, always the problem solver.” Peter fumbles to turn off and stow his Walkman, cutting _Twist and Shout_ off short. Groot makes a disappointed noise from where Peter has him tucked against his hip, but they’ve been ducking responsibilities all morning… 

“Later little buddy.” He promises under his breath, winking when Groot flutters his leaves in response. 

**4**

Rocket finishes the engine in a few days’ time and they’re back in space, looking for work. There’s a fat bounty that’s popped up on their radar (old habits die hard) so they’re off to some deep crevice in the armpit of the universe and Peter…Peter’s having a bad day. 

He’s sitting at the far end of the ship, in a small nook past the living room, used for storage. The crate beneath him isn’t comfortable, but it’s better than the steel floor. There just isn’t anywhere else on the ship he can think of to be alone for a moment. 

Peter doesn’t do this often; doesn’t dwell on the past, doesn’t long for someone that he’s never met. But he’s only human…or at least he’s part human, and sometimes the blues gets the best of him. 

He’s rolling a silver dollar in his hands, one he’s had stashed in the side pocket of his old backpack for decades. It’s a nice surprise, but stumbling on it sparks memories that he prefers to keep shut away somewhere deep. 

Humming, Peter drops his head back against the wall behind him and sighs when an ironically fitting tune worms its way into his head. 

“ _It was the third of September,_ ” he begins quietly, staring at the coin in his hand, “ _That day I'll always remember, yes I will. Cause that was the day that my daddy died. I never got a chance to see him-_ ”

“ _Peter_?” 

He jolts backwards and slams his head against the wall behind him. “Aeeii-” He just about drops the coin before he folds it into his palm, pressing his hands to his aching skull. 

Peter blinks through his tears at Gamora, watching her raised eyebrows with a hard sigh. “Hey man, you startled me.” He catches sight of Groot in her arms, his own eyes widening in surprise. He glances back up to Gamora, gaze questioning. “What can I help you with?” 

“Our friend here is asking for you.” The ex-assassin offers him a shrug and a careful smile. “Or so Rocket says.” 

He stares at her for a moment, mouth dropped open. Then Groot makes a small noise, reaching his tendrils out towards Quill. 

That’s all it takes. Peter slips the coin into his pocket and eases off his crate long enough to snatch up Groot’s pot, curling it close to his chest. “ _Thanks_.” He manages and forces his lips up into the shell of a smile. “I’ll take him from here.” 

Gamora watches them for a moment, her expression faltering. She knows something’s up, but wisely she chooses to let it slide, stepping back and leaving him and Groot in peace. 

For a time Peter says nothing, staring at the pot in his hands without really _seeing_ the sapling. Then Groot’s tendrils curl down, wrapping around his fingers firmly. 

“ _Mmmm_.” 

“Sorry little buddy. I’m probably not the best company today.” Peter sighs when Groot tightens his grip around his hand. “Still want me to sing?” 

“Mmm Rrooo.” Groot nods his tiny head and gives Peter another squeeze. 

“Alright, alright. I’ve got something stuck up here anyhow.” He gives his head a tap and clears his throat, leaning back against the wall. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one…” 

“ _Momma I'm depending on you, to tell me the truth,_ ” Peter begins, voice soft and eyes fixed off to the side, “ _Momma just hung her head and said, son-_ ” 

Groot detects the sombre tone to the song and curls more of his tendrils around Peter’s hand, holding him carefully. 

“ _Papa was a rolling stone, where ever he laid his hat was his home-_ ” His throat tightens and he swallows, forcing out the words, “ _and when he died, all he left us was alone_ -”

If Peter sniffles and wipes at his nose part way through the tune, Groot doesn’t seem to mind.

**5.**

“ _I can see clearly now the rain is gone._ ”

“ _Mm Rrrrooooo._ ” 

Sneaking Groot into the shower is either the most fantastic or the most idiotic idea Peter’s ever had. The sapling certainly seems to be enjoying himself, twisting in the mist of water that hits him from his perch on the soap shelf. He’s grown so much in the last few weeks that they got him a new pot. Makes it difficult for Rocket to carry him at times, but the racoon doesn’t seem to care, happy to see his friend progressing so quickly.

“ _I can see all obstacles in my way. Here is that rainbow I've been praying for._ ” 

Peter slides slightly on the slick shower floor. He catches his footing and spins under the spray, shimmying in front of Groot and belting his lungs out. “ _Here is that rainbow I’ve been praying for_ -”

“ _It’s gonna be a bright-_ ”

Groot’s wiggling back and forth, water droplets gathering on the tips of his leafs before flinging off. 

“ _-bright, sunshiny-_ ”

“ _ **Oi, has anyone seen Groot!?**_ ”

Rockets voice cuts into the room and Peter startles. His feet shoot out from beneath him and he goes crashing to the ground. 

The shriek he lets out is decidedly manly and not at all like a five year old girl, thank-you-very-much, and he only just manages to spare himself a concussion. 

“… _Quill?_ ” 

There’s a hesitant knock on the door and Peter just lies sits back against the damp shower wall. 

The knock sounds again and he pretends he doesn’t hear it. Instead he just braces his head in his hands and groans. Above him Groot is straining to peer over the edge of his pot, staring down at him with wide, concerned eyes. 

“ _Rroooooott_?” 

**+1**

Drax is not allowed to join Rocket and the green woman to collect information on their bounty. He is perturbed by this fact, but does not argue when Gamora instructs him to guard the Milano instead. Even more strangely, Peter volunteers to stay behind as well to…clean. 

This seems perfectly reasonable to Drax, the green woman yells at Quill about the state of the ship often enough; but Rocket and Gamora are suspicious. After some hesitance they depart all the same, reminding the three of them not to kill anybody or steal anything. Rocket screams behind him while they disappear down the bend, his gaze steady on Peter. “ _Nothing funny Quill._ ” 

The terran waves them off giddily, Groot’s pot nestled into the crook of his arm. Then, nodding to Drax he turns on heel and walks back towards the ship. Drax is sure he catches Groot wiggling as Peter starts to whistle, but when he stares the sapling simply turns around, waving to him with tiny leaves. 

They disappear before Drax can inquire into their now admittedly suspicious behaviour. He is curious, but the weather is exceptional here, a thick shield of clouds dulling the harsh glare of the planet’s trio of stars; so he sits down outside with his blades and sets to work. 

He scans around him occasionally, as is expected when one is guarding a ship, but soon finds distraction creeping its way into his mind. 

What _is_ the human up to? 

Drax tries to keep sharpening his blade, but after a matter of minutes his curiosity gets the better of him. 

Quill is acting more and more strange by the day, and while Drax is not, as Peter has called him on occasion, a _mother hen_ (as if he could be mistaken for a woman, and a type of land fowl at that!), but he is a father. 

He knows what it’s like to worry. 

There is no harm in checking on his companions…just to be sure they are alright. 

He begins to wander back across the plateau towards the Milano’s cock pit, climbing his way up inside. The ship is not large, he will find Quill quickly enough. 

Drax makes it as far as the ladder before he hears a strange sound coming from the living space below. He pauses to listen, tensing on instinct and drawing a blade from his waist. 

“ _Rocky Racoon checked into his room, only to find Gideon’s bible-_ ” 

Quill’s voice cracks and Drax glances down the ladder towards him. Peter is settled at the table with Groot’s pot at his front. He is…singing, or at least so Drax suspects. He has heard the terran sing before, just once, but this time feels very different. His voice carries through the Milano, strong and steady; and his expression relaxed and calm.

“ _Rocky had come, equipped with a gun, to shoot off the legs of his rival-_ ” Drax watches Quill hold his fingers out to Groot, the sapling wrapping tendrils around them and pulling them side to side, “ _His rival it seems had broken his dreams, by stealing the girl of his fancy. Her name was Magil and she called herself Lil, but everyone knew her as Nancy._ ” 

Drax finds himself lowering to sit at the top of the ladder, barely breathing. He listens carefully to the words and can’t help but think to their own furry companion. 

“ _Now she and her man who called himself Dan, were in the next room at the hoedown,_ ”

What a hoedown is, Drax can’t be sure, but he knows there are rooms there. 

“ _Rocky burst in and grinning a grin, he said Danny boy this is a showdown_ ,” Peter lets out a dramatic holler that nearly topples Drax from his perch. He shakes off his surprise and looks down to Groot, finding the sapling twisting around happily. 

“ _But Daniel was hot, he drew first and shot-_ ” Quill pauses, throwing the hand that’s not tangled in Groot’s tendrils out to the side, “ _And Rocky collapsed in the corner, ah!_ ” 

Suddenly the terran starts spouting gibberish, belting out a series of nonsense to the tune of the song. Drax is at first perturbed, and then intrigued, listening to the way Peter loses himself in the cheerful beat-

“ _Oi, what’s all the ruckus in here-_ ” 

Drax raises a hand quickly to his mouth, what Quill explains is the universal sign for ‘be quiet’, and turns to stare Rocket down. “Silence companions.” 

“Silence?” Rocket raises his eyebrows and moves to step forward, but Gamora catches his arm from behind, her expression one of intrigue. 

“Shh,” she releases him and cocks her head, a small smile quirking across her features, “ _listen_.” 

Rocket looks unsure but does as he’s told, ears twitching at the top of his head. 

Drax is satisfied enough to turn his attention back to Quill, relieved to find the Terran still blissfully unaware of their presence. 

“ _Now the doctor came in, stinking of gin, and proceeded to lie on the table. He said Rocky you met your match, and Rocky said, doc it's only a scratch, and I'll be better I'll be better doc as soon as I am able._ ”

Gamora is staring at the sky through the Milano’s rooftop, smile still plastered across her face. 

“ _And now Rocky Raccoon he fell back in his room, only to find Gideon's bible-_ ” 

Rocket bristles and narrows his eyes but makes no move to speak. 

“ _Gideon checked out and he left it no doubt,_ ” Peter slows down, drawing the notes out through the slight cracking of his voice, “ _To help with good Rocky's revival, ah, oh yeah, yeah_.”

The last note rings out in the silent ship and the spying trio hardly dare to breathe. Then suddenly a small, boisterous voice chimes out through the still air. 

“ _Mmmm Grooooooootttt._ ” 

Rocket makes a sharp sound of surprise and slams his hands over his mouth, avoiding the gazes of both Gamora and Drax. His ears are still twitching though, and it’s obvious that he’s straining to hear more from his friend. 

“ _Aye there little buddy, you liked it that much?_ ” Peter laughs out, delighted. “ _You got that ‘guh’ sound down for me and everything!_ ” 

“ _Grrrroooooottttttt._ ’ 

Rocket stays until he can’t stand it anymore, and after a quick look between Drax and Gamora he is bee-lining for the ladder. 

“Hey, what’s all that ruckus down there?” Rocket calls as he passes the Destroyer, turning to climb his way down the ladder. Drax offers him what he hopes is a comforting smile (he’s been told that his face can be quite terrifying at times). 

“ _Rocket! Oh Rocket you’re never going to guess what our little leafy buddy can do!_ ” Quill’s scrambling to gather Rocket up the moment he hits the ground, dragging the racoon to the table. “ _Do it again for him! Do it again-_ ” 

“ _Grooooooot_.” 

Rocket’s tearing up by the time Gamora and Drax make their way down, and Peter looks torn between proud and concerned. He glances up when the pair arrive, motioning for the three of them to sit back, giving Rocket some space to talk with his little buddy. 

“He sure is growing fast.” Gamora murmurs, glancing over her shoulder from where they settle into the bunk. 

Drax watches Peter grin, the terran scratching his head bashfully. “He is, isn’t he?” 

“Quill.” Drax cuts in suddenly, reaching out to clasp Peter on the shoulder. He looks startled by the contact, staring down at him with his eyes wide. “You are doing something with the plant man.” 

“ _I-_ ”

“Whatever it is, it is working.” He releases his friend and sits back against the bunk seat. 

“Yeah,” Peter drawls out, positively beaming, and his gaze finds Rocket and their sapling friend, “it is, isn’t it.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence, listening to Rocket’s quiet snuffling and Groot’s soft, answering croon. 

“ _Mmmmm Grrooooot_ ” 

**END**


End file.
